


What Matters Is: It Happens

by JoifulDreaming



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 06:09:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24240067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoifulDreaming/pseuds/JoifulDreaming
Summary: Probably as close as I'll ever come to poetry...
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	What Matters Is: It Happens

It first happens- after the bus ride, after the racing about, after the not-end of the world- on a hillside out in the country. Far from the bustle of a London that doesn’t even know the world almost ended. Far from a little bookshop that doesn’t even know it burnt down just days ago. Far from a cold, lonely flat full of trembling plants (which somehow _do_ know what nearly occurred, and still aren’t sure if it would have been better than this).

It first happens- after continued excuses to stay in one another’s company, but not too close, still paranoid of prying eyes and whispers; old habits are hard to shake- under a canopy of stars. Not a cloud to obstruct the view of Crowley’s high-powered telescope. Barely even the sound of nocturnal insects to break the silence.

It first happens- without the aid of alcohol or fear of no tomorrow, desperation dialed back in a way it never has been for them, the ability to relax finally beginning to settle, prickling, on to their very skin; delicate and hopeful and foreign- on a ratty old blanket. It wouldn’t do, said Aziraphale, to bring one from the shop: it would never truly be clean again… He would know the dirt was there. I believe the blanket will be there, Angel, steady on.

It first happens- after centuries of brief touches, only by necessity, always pulled back and foreshortened- as they both reach for the telescope to have a look at a passing comet. Hands brushing, at first by accident. Fingers not pulled back. A mutual holding of breath. Entwined purposefully, neither initiating but neither willing to squander the opportunity. 

It first happens- the ending of longing, the beginning of a new connection, the continuation of a lifelong friendship in to something just a bit more- on a hillside, on a tattered blanket thought in to existence, under a twinkling kaleidoscope of stars. The stars have witnessed it all and pass no judgement, even as the two share breath and limbs in the darkness. The stars persist and they’ll be there for later viewing.


End file.
